


The Beginning of Something?

by starrynightwrt



Series: Ghamdan University AU [1]
Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe, Gundala (2019)
Genre: I planned to write more but then again this is so bad, M/M, University AU, this is so bad, why am I doing this to myself, why can't i form a comprehensive sentence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 05:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21453028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynightwrt/pseuds/starrynightwrt
Summary: The first time Ghani Zulham and Ganda Hamdan met each other at University.
Relationships: Ghani Zulham (Ghazul)/Ganda Hamdan, Ghazul/Ganda
Series: Ghamdan University AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561864
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Beginning of Something?

**(fresher's week)**

It was the first day of his third year of university when Ganda first saw him. He in that sleek ironed white shirt and black trousers, looking unusually dashing for a freshman even at the beginning of freshers’ week. His hair was neatly combed, eyes bright and ready, he stood tall, obviously proud of himself. Providing a contrast to Ganda's appearance, Ganda who haven't had any sleep for the last two days due to his role as one of the organizing committee of the fresher's week orientation, Ganda who didn't even bother to take a shower that morning, Ganda who was obviously tired and weary. It was hard to take his eyes off him once he first laid his first sight.

Later that day he learned that his name was Zulham from the bright colored name tag he wore, written in messy handwriting. For someone with such a dapper appearance, he sure had terrible penmanship. Zulham didn't talk much that day, he stood tall but mostly stayed in silent, paying close attention to his surroundings.

The second day of fresher's week, however, was a different story.

The day started on a high on the university front yard. The organizing committee had planned an evaluation session that was supposed to be disciplinary, supposedly. Ganda wasn't particularly a fan of this session for obvious reasons, but Ganda just didn't have enough guts to stand up to the rest of the committee in breaking decades-long tradition of belittling the younger students.

Unlike Zulham.

Unexpectedly, Zulham was the only one was brave enough to stand up against his older peers. Once the so-called 'evaluation' had turned into a series of mockeries and insults, Zulham got out of his assigned position, by the side of the endless lines of students, a hand high up in the air. He walked up front, carrying himself with such assurance. He was ready to get into a fight. Even his usual stoic and composed manner couldn't hide the fact that he was mad. 

He was faced by two older boys, one taller than him; he voiced his protests, didn't even flinch at the intimidation. The argument started to heat up, Zulham standing on his tiptoe, his fist firm by the side of his body, ready to launch. 

Ganda's instinct took over, unexpectedly he ran into the middle of the fields and threw himself in the middle of the quarrel. He faced the older boys; telling them to stand down and that they don’t want this to turn into a fight, for it would eventually turn into a penalty from the student board overlooking the whole event. He then turned to Zulham, reaching one arm out to keep him at a distance, telling him to calm down, and that they could just do a cold-headed discussion. Zulham slapped his arm away, he was persistent. He started to cut the distance and tried to shove Ganda in the chest, yelling that Ganda was just like others. At the moment, Ganda didn’t feel the sudden wave of emotions and rage rushing through his veins, because everything happened so fast, the next thing he knew his fist had landed on Zulham’s nose and he fell unconscious on the ground. His hand was aching for the next two weeks.

Zulham woke up on a cot in the emergency medical tent around ten minutes later. Beside him was Ganda, holding up an ice pack to his face. Even with the swelling around his nose and eyes, Zulham could see the genuine guilt on the older boy’s face, but he wasn’t gonna let Ganda’s expression fazed him. His hand quickly grabbed the ice pack away, startling Ganda who wasn’t paying attention.

“Saya bisa sendiri,” Zulham voice was raspy and dry, his tone; defensive.

Ganda didn’t know what to say. He was sorry, for sure, but he couldn’t help but think that this son of a bitch at least deserves a punch in the face for being disrespectful. It was unfortunate that he needed to apologize ever so genuinely so that Zulham wouldn’t file a serious complaint to the student board.

“Saya minta maaf,” it surprised him that he could say it so easily, “saya tadi termakan emosi.”

Zulham didn’t respond.

“_ It will mean the world to us if you don’t take this up with the student board _,” for some reason it felt so wrong to address this point, but he needed to say it for the sake of his team, “kami minta maaf atas ketidakprofesionalan kami,” by this point Ganda somehow sound like a robot being told what to say.

“Saya tidak janji,” Zulham scoffed, still managed to come off as arrogant event with that bruising blue hue on his face, “_ you know you cross the line here, you punch a freshman for god’s sake. _”

Ganda got up from his chair, “kamu masih beruntung itu saya, _ you’ll need more than an ice pack if the others decided to lay their hands on you _,” Ganda tone was assertive and high, again, defensive. 

“Lalu saya harusnya berterima kasih, begitu?” 

Ganda couldn’t answer, the son of a bitch got a point. He couldn’t lie to himself, some part of him was quite curious about what would happen if Zulham eventually decides to bring this up to the student board. He might get suspended or even expelled and his team would surely be given a penalty. But at the very least, maybe some changes would eventually be made at the flawed system. 

To his surprise; the case was never brought up again. 

  
  


**(two weeks later)**

  
  


To be completely honest with himself, Ghazul didn’t know why he eventually decided to drop his complaint from the student boards after sending it in the first place. It just didn’t feel right. It was probably because he wasn’t particularly a fan of his face being put in front of a case, because he knew that if he did decide to bring this up, it would result in something bigger that he'd like it to be. This wasn't just about a senior punching a freshman in the first week of uni, it was about a long broken tradition that needed fixing. 

_ Or maybe he just didn't want that boy to take the heat for what happened that day. Afterall, he was just trying to protect Ghazul from the other seniors. _

Ghazul shook the thoughts away, still couldn't figure out the reason why he did what he did. But he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with this Ganda Hamdan. Ganda Hamdan. Later that day, Ghazul eventually learned the name of the older boy from the crew name-tag he wore around his neck, typed below his picture. There was something intriguing about this boy, something that made it quite hard for Ghazul to stop indulging in the thought of actually getting to know who Ganda Hamdan actually was. Ghazul just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was it the way he talk? Or was it something about that face? Or those eyes? Or-

_ Wait, what -- why is he thinking about this? _

Once again, Ghazul closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind off the image of Ganda Hamdan's eyes.

_ Dear god, what is it about him? _

Around two weeks into the first term, Ghazul stumbled upon a band gig flyer, pasted on the buletin wall of the library -- which was quite odd if you think about it. Ghazul was never a fan of this kind of events, hell,he wasn't a fan of _ most _ events. The thought of socializing just didn't sit well with Ghani Zulham. But for some reason, this particular flyer caught his eye, or to be more precise, the person _ on _the flyer caught his eye. At first he didn't think much of it, he looked at it for a split second before resuming back to his book, subconsciously, the date and venue of the gig latched itself on the back of Ghazul's mind.

Ghazul hated the idea of not understanding something. Right now, he didn’t understand an awful lot of things. It was never like him to act on his impulse, he never took any action on a whim, he always calculate every decision he made ever so meticulously. So what happened? 

He didn’t understand why he decided to challenge those people to a fight on the second day of uni. He didn’t understand why he withdrew the complaint instead of going forward with it. And most importantly, he didn’t understand why he couldn’t get that boy off the back of his mind.

Now, he got another thing to add to the list of things he couldn’t quite understand; He didn’t understand why he decided to go to the gig the band he had no previous knowledge of. Aside from Ganda Hamdan being the lead of the group.

Ghazul stood in the back of the room, leaning against the poster covered wall, a bottle of Guinness in his hand. He didn’t know anybody, nor did he intend to get to know anyone new. Still couldn’t seem to figure out why he was there in the first place. 

The music of the band fell below the genre that Ghazul surprisingly enjoyed. Although, to be completely honest, he didn’t really pay that much attention to the music playing in the background.

Ganda’s band played a total of four songs before getting off the stage, taking turns with another band they were sharing the venue with that night. Even without him realizing, Ghazul still couldn’t take his eyes off the lead. Ganda stepped down with a big smile on his face, he looked _ satisfied _. He was still trying to arrange his breath when he high-fived some of the audiences in the front row. Accidentally, Ganda caught the hovering gaze from across the room.

They locked eyes.

Ghazul quickly darted his eyes elsewhere, cursing under his breath. He wanted to leave but it was too late. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Ganda was making his way towards him.

_ Shit. _

There were no room for Ghazul to escape, or even move, for that matter. He was stunned, caught in the act. Dear god, his heart was rushing through time he was pretty sure he could explode at any second. Ghazul took a big gulp of his drink, drawing in a shaky breath, still couldn't figure out why he was so nervous. Ghazul shut his eyes for a split second, the next thing he knew Ganda Hamdan was standing in front of him, a sickening grin smeared across his face.

"Gimana hidungmu? Baik-baik saja?"

_ “I’m sorry?” _ Ghazul was caught off guard by Ganda's unusual conversation starters. Unlike their previous encounter, there was a visible shift in their dynamic. Ghazul didn't come off as arrogant as he did back in the day, in fact he looked _ nervous _and out of place. Ganda on the other hand was calm and composed, a smile gracing his lips, his eyes kind and welcoming.

  
  


_ Those eyes. _

Ghazul snapped back into reality before drowning in his thoughts, he looked at the empty water bottle Ganda was nursing in his hand, avoiding eye contact.

“Hidungmu, masih sakit?” Ganda repeated his question.

“Oh,” Ghazul subconsciously ran his finger along the bridge of his nose, there was still a visible blue hue on the surface of his skin although the swelling had gone away, it ached, “Sudah nggak, Mas,” he lied. 

Another thing to add to the list. Why did he lie?

“Eh santai aja, nggak usah panggil ‘mas’.”

Ghazul nodded in silence, but decided to keep the honorifics anyway.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
